


Missed Connections

by Asphodel_Meadow



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, based on a movie, winter holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21618901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asphodel_Meadow/pseuds/Asphodel_Meadow
Summary: After Arielle passed away, Quentin decided his son should spend some time with Arielle’s parents. At the airport, Quentin met divorced father Eliot, who was picking up his daughter.However, just like destiny let them met each other, it also pulled them apart. Would the holiday spirit give them enough courage to put his heart on the line one more time?Inspired by "Picking Up & Dropping Off".
Relationships: Margo Hanson & Eliot Waugh, Quentin Coldwater & Julia Wicker, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55
Collections: Magicians Hallmark Holiday Extravaganza





	Missed Connections

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Missed Connections (Art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21619789) by [Dreamsparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsparkle/pseuds/Dreamsparkle). 



> This fic is loosely based on the movie "Picking Up & Dropping Off", and it was made for The Magicians Hallmark Holiday Extravaganza.
> 
> I want to thank Lynn for being a wonderful beta and saving me at the last moment. 
> 
> Don't forget to check the art made by the lovely Dreamsparkle. Thank you for being my partner on this journey.

Quentin checked Teddy’s backpack. He had gone over the contents two times, but a third one didn’t hurt anyone. Tomorrow his son would be flying alone, Quentin needed to make sure everything was in order. Apart from several changes of clothes and Teddy’s favorite slippers, Quentin had packed a cell phone and two copies of tomorrow’s schedule. He also had put some snacks and the deck of cards that Teddy liked to play with. His son was going to have a lot of time during the flight to practice his tricks. 

When Quentin returned to the living room, Julia was already sitting close to the Christmas tree, several boxes were laying on the floor. Jules was taking out the Christmas decorations from them. She stopped her actions once she saw Quentin on the threshold. 

“Everything’s fine?” Julia asked.

“Yeah, we’re good to leave tomorrow.” She didn’t seem pleased by this answer. Quentin could tell something was bothering her. He had an idea what it could be, but preferred to ask her directly: “What’s the matter?”

For a brief moment, she hesitated, and then her expression turned steely: “I still think it’s way too early to send Teddy with them.”

Quentin sighed. They had had this conversation before, when Quentin told her about the agreement he had made with Teddy’s grandparents. Q understood where Julia’s uneasiness was coming from. After Arielle passed away, her parents, who never quite liked Quentin, wanted to keep custody. They even used his depression to influence the court to rule in their favor. In the end, Teddy stayed with his father. Julia hadn’t forgotten about that. 

“It’s only a couple of days,” Q reminded her, in an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Besides, as you know very well, they did apologize.” This argument didn’t convince her, so Q tried a different approach: “And I think Teddy needs to connect with Arielle in some way. What better way to do it than to go where she grew up?”

This time it was Julia who sighed.

“I guess you’re right,” she conceded. “If this is for Teddy’s sake. It’s just… I hate they did _that._ ”

Quentin smiled; he was so lucky to have Jules. She always had been very protective when people tried to weaponize Q’s mental health. But as her words showed, she also cared deeply for Teddy. Jules had been a great support for Quentin during Arielle’s illness. Always helping where she could: babysitting her godchild and keeping an eye on Q’s wellbeing. After all they been through, Quentin thought it was only fair for him to share his doubts. 

“If I’m being honest, I’m really nervous about this, too.” He confessed. 

This was going to be the first time he will have spent so much time apart from his son. Quentin knew Teddy would be safe; Rupert and Aldith would make sure of that. And yet, like any father (for Q had been told this was the average reaction) he worried about ‘what if’s’. So many things could happen: from Teddy getting lost in the airport to accidentally leaving the house when he was sleepwalking. The worst thing was that his fears weren’t unfounded. 

“I’ve heard it gets better with time,” Julia commented. She was trying to reassure him, but she didn’t think it was helping. So, she decided to change the topic. It wouldn’t do any good for Q to dwell on this matter, not so close to Teddy’s travel. As little as Julia liked the idea, she was determined to make it work. Julia grabbed a box, passed it to Quentin and said: “Now, let’s finish, I bet Teddy wants to see the Christmas tree before he leaves tomorrow.” 

Julia was rarely wrong, but on this occasion only one of her conjectures was accurate.

Quentin had to wake up Teddy a bit earlier, which had been a bit of a hassle (his son wasn’t a morning person) but once Q explained the reason for the change, things went smoothly. Teddy was delighted to see the tree standing on their living room. Father and son put a few more decorations on before leaving for the airport. 

On the other side, dealing with Teddy’s absence didn’t become easier. Quentin spent the four days missing his son and getting worried about him. He wondered what Teddy was doing and how well he was adjusting to being away from home. They talked every day, but that only made more evident the distance between them. 

Fortunately, there wasn’t any emergency and Teddy enjoyed the time with his grandparents. He returned with a lot of stories to tell. Teddy’s little stay, and his good behavior, also helped to melt the ice between Quentin and Arielle’s parents. It was a win-win situation. Even Jules admitted the stay had been good for everyone. 

After that visit a schedule was set. Teddy would spend the first days of his school vacations with his grandparents. They decided on three reunions through the year: spring, summer and winter. 

By their third trip to the airport, Quentin was learning vital information: what was the best route to take, where to park, at what hour the waiting room was more crowded; small things that made the whole process easier. Winter break (being the first and so close to the holiday season) had been pretty hectic. The spring trip had been more relaxed and, now, summer was appearing to be another stress-free occasion.

Quentin and Teddy had established a routine by now, but that didn’t make the goodbyes any less painful. It was always the most difficult part. Q hugged Teddy one last time and asked him if he had everything with him. Teddy said yes to every item his father mentioned. Then, Quentin hugged him one more time and watched him go. 

He was still looking at the closed door when someone at his right spoke:

“Dropping off?” the stranger asked.

“Uh,“ Quentin replied eloquently. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting to turn and lock eyes with such a handsome man. The stranger was a head taller than Q. He looked up and hello, beautiful face: he had hazel eyes and black curls. He was also wearing an amused expression. As soon as he saw it, Quentin’s brain activated and he realized he hadn’t answered the question. “Sorry, what?”

“You see,” the other started to explain, addressing Q’s question partially. “The people in the waiting room usually have two looks: dropping off or picking up. And, by the way you were staring at the tarmac; I would say you belong in the first category.”

Quentin would like to say he couldn’t believe the man had read his mood so effortlessly. But that would be a lie. He was easy to read, or so Jules claimed; according to her, all of his emotions were written on his face, right there where everyone could see them. Probably, Q was exuding waves of sadness right now. So, he decided to admit his situation.

“I just put my son on the plane.”

At his right, Tall and Handsome nodded thoughtfully. There was something in his manner that gave Quentin the idea the other was relating to the experience. It wasn’t the usual politeness that Quentin got from flight attendants or the earnest (but still far away) sympathy from Julia. No. This was different. There was understanding in that gaze, the type that came from experience.

“Goodbyes are always hard.” Tall and Handsome finally said. “I always stay until the plane takes off, and then a bit more.”

The comment confirmed Quentin’s previous guess, and so, he ventured to ask:

“Where did you send your kid?”

“Oh, no,” he shook his head. “Today, I’m picking up.”

“Then, you’re on the lucky side.”

Tall and Handsome offered Quentin a small smile. The gesture showed joy and melancholy in equal parts.

“Well, that only means in a few weeks I have to say goodbye.” The man said, revealing the reason behind his mixed emotions.

Before Quentin could even think of a response, an announcement captured the other man’s attention. The voice informed them that the flight LE 385 had (after some delay) landed, and that people would be exiting through gate two.

“That’s my cue.”

Quentin felt a shiver at hearing the phrase. The last word sounded so similar to the nickname Jules used for him. Tall and Handsome looked at him, and Quentin was very proud to say he didn’t become a pudding right on the spot. (Though, his face was probably flushed).

“Enjoy the summer break,” Quentin said as a farewell. Tall and Handsome tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment. It should have been the end of the conversation; instead, Quentin’s mouth decided to betray him. “Does it ever get easy?”

The man seemed surprised by the question: it was a kind of personal, after all. This was the type of thing you talked about with your families or friends, not with strangers. Especially, not strangers you met in the airport. And yet, wasn’t that actually good? 

They had the advantage of anonymity: they didn’t even know each other’s names.

What was the probability that their paths would cross again? 

Tall and Handsome must have arrived at a similar conclusion because (instead of ignore the question and walk away) he answered.

“The anguish of divorced parents never seems to end. At least, we’re not alone on this boat.” The doors behind them opened, and people began to come out from the corridor. He looked at the entrance and then back at Quentin. “I should go now.”

“Have fun.”

Quentin observed as the man walked to the other side of the room and waited for his child. It didn’t take long before a little girl came out and hugged him: they looked happy. Quentin returned his gaze towards the windows and didn’t notice when the other man looked in his direction. Teddy’s plane was in position to take off. After a few minutes passed, the plane had disappeared into the blue sky. The stranger and his daughter had also left.

Two weeks later, Quentin was back at the airport. This time it was his turn to ‘pick up’ his son. He found himself looking for Tall and Handsome. Quentin knew it was a pointless task, but still he gave it a chance. Q swept his gaze over the waiting room hoping to find the stranger there. He didn’t have any luck. The small disappointment was soon forgotten when he spotted Teddy.

Quentin didn’t think about his small exchange with Tall and Handsome until the beginning of December. And that was because of Jules’ meddling. She was trying to set Quentin up with one of her friends. Usually, Q didn’t mind her intervention so much. (Sometimes, he even enjoyed the fussing). However, today was a different story. After spending two hours cutting up colored papers for Teddy’s homework, the last thing he wanted to hear was Jules criticizing his romantic life. Or more specifically, his lack of it. 

“Actually, I met someone,” he ended up blurting out in an attempt to make her back off.

“Really?” Quentin wished that Jules didn’t sound so surprised. “What’s their name?”

 _Shit_. It was so like him to get caught immediately. He really need to think before opening his mouth. “Uhm, well.” Quentin hesitated. Perhaps if he had more time, he could come up with something plausible. However, Jules wasn’t going to give him that kind of leverage. 

Sensing his vacillation, she pressed on: “Quentin?” 

“Fine, I was bluffing,” he said, feeling obligated. 

Jules examined his face. She knew there was something he wasn’t sharing, but, thankfully, she didn’t push. Instead, she brought up another very familiar topic.

“You can’t be a widow your whole life.”

This was a well-known argument between them. Though, Q felt that ‘argument’ wasn’t the correct term for it. It was more like a monthly lecture by Jules. She kept telling Quentin that he needed to get back in the game. In reality, Quentin didn’t understand Jules’ insistence. It was not like before Arielle, he had been in a lot of relationships. Besides, he was a father now. Quentin had to take of Teddy first. 

“I’m not- It’s not like that.” By now, Q’s response was almost like a knee jerk reaction.

Arielle’s death hadn’t been easy, but life went on. Teddy was the living proof of that. Quentin dedicated himself fully to his son. Perhaps, that was the reason of Julia’s concern. The fact that he was mostly a father first and a person second. 

“I just want you to be happy,” she said.

“I am.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t totally true either. Of course, he was happy: watching Teddy grow, spending time with Jules, collecting books. Yet, from time to time, Quentin ached for company. Sometimes, he wondered if one day he would be able to share his experiences with someone. Inadvertently, Q’s thoughts wandered to the stranger from the airport. 

It had been easy to talk with him, even if their topic was sensitive. In some way, Quentin felt they bonded over their shared misery. Okay, he was being dramatic, but he did feel a connection. It was good to talk with someone who got you. Quentin would like to get to know him better. However, the probability of finding Tall and Handsome again was very slim, even if they both spent plenty of time at the airport.

* * *

Eliot arrived at the airport ten minutes before the plane was supposed to land. The employee on the counter informed him that his daughter’s flight was delayed. Nothing new then; this was almost part of his routine on holidays by this point. He was resigning himself to spend the next hour drinking overpriced coffee and playing some game on his phone, when Eliot saw a familiar face.The man, that Eliot had met a few months ago, was sitting there. He had to double check before approaching him. 

“Hey.” 

The greeting made the man look up. His face showed surprise and by the way he smiled it must had been a good one. Oh, those dimples. Eliot remembered now why he had nicknamed the stranger Cutie Pie in his mind. 

“Hi,” Cutie tucked his hair behind his ear. If he found Eliot’s presence weird, he didn’t show it. On the contrary, Cutie continued talking as if their encounter was completely normal. “Uhm, how was your summer?”

“Wonderful.” Suddenly, Eliot got an idea. “I could tell you more over a cup of coffee. My daughter’s flight is delayed. What do you say?” 

Eliot hoped his invitation wasn’t too forward. It was just coffee, and, well, if the conversation proved to be interesting, perhaps Eliot would ask for a number. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

The walk to the Starbucks was a short one. Like the rest of the airport, the place had Christmas decorations all over it. Eliot was slightly disappointed at not finding mistletoe hanging. They went directly to order, where Eliot found out that Cutie’s actual name was Quentin. It was quite a revelation. Not for the name exactly, (though, Eliot had to stop himself from making fun of it), but for the realization that he didn’t know it. They had a bonding moment during their last encounter and now they were sharing stories about their kids. Yet, they hadn’t known something as simple as each other’s names. 

They were lucky to find an empty table inside the busy place. Once they sat down, and with the tune of Jingle Bells as background music, they resumed their conversation. 

“Ellisha didn’t want to sleep, so Margo said-”

“No, she didn’t.”

“She totally did.” Eliot was sharing what happened the first time Margo helped him to take care of Ellisha. His little girl had managed to almost drive Margo crazy with her constant nagging. And Eliot loved Bambi, but she didn’t have any experience with kids. So, in the end, Ellisha got away with her wish. 

“It’s like rule number one in the parents’ book: never try to bargain with them.” Quentin remarked.

“I know, right?” Eliot took a sip of his coffee and watched how Quentin’s smile made his face look brighter.

“Teddy is the same,” he added. “At least he doesn’t remember half of the things he asks for.”

“I wish Ellisha had forgotten about it, but no. She never does; she’s like her mother.” Eliot shook his head fondly at the memory of Fen and her (sometimes) singleminded drive. 

“So, you took her to the beach?”

“That I did.” 

They stayed quiet for a bit, just drinking their coffee. Eliot looked at time on the screen; soon he would have to go back to the waiting room. He returned his gaze to Quentin and saw him playing with his coffee spoon. Eliot was already planning for a way to ask for his number. Though, on second thought, this probably required another approach. He took out a pen and discreetly wrote something under his name on his cup. Quentin’s voice brought his attention back to the conversation.

“Thank you,” Quentin said.

As strange as the sentence could sound, Eliot wasn’t surprised by it. He didn’t need to ask what Quentin was thanking him for. Eliot had a fairly good idea. He adored Margo, but she didn’t fully understand what being a parent meant. Sometimes, he felt that only Fen could comprehend him. However, in these last 30 minutes had Eliot discovered that wasn’t entirely true. Perhaps, he only needed to hang out with more single parents like him. Yeah, it was probably that. 

“I did tell you. We are in the same boat.”

“Uh, well,” Quentin fidgeted. “Actually, we aren’t; I mean we kind of are, but not totally, because you know our circumstances are definitely not the same.” He was rambling. He only stopped when he ran out of air. Eliot’s confusion didn’t last long, because Q took a deep breath, and explained: “You see, I’m not divorced.”

“Oh,” this did surprise Eliot. He had thought- But then, “where did you send your son?”

“With my late wife’s parents.” Quentin made a small pause. “Arielle died two years after Teddy was born. A heart failure. The doctor said it was a congenital condition.”

Eliot was a bit lost at what to say. He wasn’t expecting this. ‘Sorry’ seemed the appropriate response, but it also sounded so impersonal. Eliot didn’t want to end this conversation on that tone. And so, he did the only he could think of: he shared something personal too.

“Actually, I wasn’t exactly fair before,” he said. “I don’t suppose you two married because your parents made an arrangement.” 

Quentin seemed shocked, but he recovered quickly. 

“No, they didn’t.”

“Not very Victorian of them, if you ask me.” Eliot’s joke lightened the tension.

“Did it ever work between you?” Quentin asked, clearly interested in the matter. However, the announcement of the flight’s arrival saved Eliot from answering that question. “Oh! That’s your call.”

Eliot rose from his seat. He didn’t want this meeting to end, but he had to go. Before thinking too much, he said: “Do you want to come?”

The invitation was clear. Quentin nodded and got up. Shortly, they were back in the waiting room. In a brief moment, his daughter would appear and his time with Quentin would be up. Eliot needed to make a decision quickly. 

“I love her, obviously,” Eliot commented off-handedly. It took a second for Quentin to realize he was responding to his earlier question. “But not in that way. Girls aren’t really my area.” Eliot saw the moment in which Quentin registered the meaning of that information: his eyes widened slightly and he flushed. Yep, Q was interested in _that way_. This had better work. “Can you hold this? I-” Eliot offered his almost empty coffee and gestured in the gates’ direction. Quentin took the cup, and a beat later Eliot’s daughter came running towards him. Great timing, Eliot thought. 

He lowered himself and hugged Ellisha. How he had missed his little girl. He kissed her forehead.

“How was your flight?” He asked her, following their own routine questions.

“Delayed.”

“Tell me something new,” he said, and the words made her laugh. “Hon, I want you to meet my new friend Quentin.” Eliot turned around to introduce him. “He kept me company while I waited for you.”

“Hello, miss,” Quentin welcomed her. 

“He talked most of the time, didn’t he?” Eliot pretended to be affronted by her comment.

Quentin chuckled. “I can’t deny that. But, in his defense I have to say: he’s also a good listener.” 

The answer seemed to please her but it was time for them to make their exit.

“I’ll see you around,” Eliot said as he took his daughter’s bag. 

“Yeah,” Quentin replied a bit disheartened. 

Eliot hold Ellisha’s hand and began to walk away. He stopped when Quentin called out his name: “Eliot, wait! Your coffee.”

“Oh, keep it. I believe you needed it more than me.” 

Quentin’s confused expression was adorable. Fortunately for Eliot, it didn’t last long.. Quentin had looked at the coffee cup, and when he found Eliot’s eyes again he was smiling. 

“I guess you’re right.” 

Under Eliot’s name there was a phone number scribbled with blue ink.

Eliot walked with Ellisha towards the parking lot. They were talking about their plans for the vacation; many activities awaited them. Eliot always wanted to enjoy her visits to the fullest.

“Dad, I have a question.” She sounded a bit uncertain. This caught Eliot’s attention.

“You can ask anything, hon.” 

“Is he your Josh?”

The phrasing was weird. There was no other way in which Eliot could describe it. Why was Ellisha bringing up Fen’s current boyfriend? Instead of sidestepping the question, he said: “What do you mean?”

“Quentin,” she enunciated the name slowly and pointed her hand towards the building. “Is he your Josh?”

Oh, suddenly Eliot understood. He should have been more careful, thought through his actions better. Of course, she would think something like that. Eliot had never before introduced ‘a friend’ to her. God, what had he thinking? He hadn’t been, that was evident. He had to clear this up, before it became an issue. The last thing he needed was a misunderstanding. 

“First, never use that analogy again,” Eliot said, suppressing a shudder. He got it, Josh was Fen’s boyfriend, but the phrase was a no-no for him. “And no, well, I mean it could be, but it’s a no for now.”

“I don’t understand.”

Eliot sighed. He adjusted her seatbelt and leaned back. He needed to be as sincere as he could. But he couldn’t exactly talk about this subject with his eight year old daughter. Could he? 

“Look, we just met, and…”

“You need to get out more.” She declared with all the authority she could muster. The determination in her gaze amused Eliot. Where had she gotten these ideas?

“Excuse me?”

“Auntie Margo said-” 

“Oh, Auntie Margo and I will be having a few words.”

* * *

Quentin stared at the number for a whole minute before taking out his phone and saving it. He couldn’t believe that had happened. Just a few days ago, he was thinking how improbable it would be to meet the stranger again, however, Q hadn’t counted with having a stroke of luck. Not only they met, but they also went for a coffee. More important, now Q had the stranger’s -Eliot’s- number. Holy shit, Jules wasn’t going to believe him. Quentin wasn’t sure if he believed this himself.

Just like the last time, Quentin had felt at ease spending time with the other. It was good to talk with someone who could understand what being a parent implied. He tucked the phone into his coat and headed out to his car. 

How long should he wait to send a text? He couldn't do it right away. Of course not, in this moment Eliot was with his daughter. Surely, he didn't have time for anyone else. Quentin understood that. He would contact him later; it was for the best. 

However, days came and went and Quentin didn’t send a single text. He had drafted a few, but they never convinced him enough to hit the button. And now, it was too late for a simple ‘Hello’. How would Eliot know who was messaging him? He needed to add something like: ‘I’m Quentin from the airport’, which sounded too awkward (even for Q standards).

He kept his gaze on the phone screen. He only needed to send it and everything would be over. Q’s finger hovered over ‘send’. If he didn’t do it now, then when? He took a deep breath, and prepared to do it. However, he lost his courage and, at the last moment, closed the app and set the phone down. He dropped his head on the counter and groaned.

Why did he have to make this so complicated? This could have been a great opportunity to make a new friend. And, if Q hadn’t mistaken the signals, they could even become something more. He was sure Eliot had been flirting. But no, he had to ruin it with his overthinking.

The doorbell of the shop rang. Q didn’t need to look up to know who had entered. Earlier in the week, Julia had agreed to help him with the bookstore inventory. (Which meant she would take care of the sales, while Quentin went downstairs and ruffled through boxes and boxes).

“Please, Q, tell me you finally sent it?” she asked as she walked in his direction. “Don’t give me that puppy look. I get that it’s hard. But what are your options? Surely you _can not_ be planning to wait until you meet again in the airport.” Julia laughed at her own idea. It was truly absurd. And yet Quentin looked thoughtful. “You can’t be considering that!” 

Q’s silence was pretty self-incriminatory.

“Quentin!” She exclaimed reproachfully. “It’s not 2003! You’re going to need a good explanation for how you ‘lost’ his number.”

“I don’t need to explain anything,” he said. Julia shook her head. She was clearly getting exasperated by Quentin’s attitude. “Let’s change the topic, before I give you a headache.”

She laughed. “Don’t think I will forget about this.”

True to her word, she didn’t drop the subject. She used every opportunity to remind him of the text. By the fourth time Julia found an excuse to visit him in the basement, Quentin was at the end of his rope. So, it wasn’t a surprise when he surrendered. 

“You win!” He yelled as soon as he saw her. “I’ll send the text.”

Julia was startled by Q’s outburst. Startled, but pleased. She smiled wide before speaking. “I wasn’t here for that,” she said. “Yet, I’m glad you bowed to my superior logic.”

“Then?”

“Well, there’s a client looking for a special edition of _The Little Prince_. He said it has pop-ups. And if didn’t you just decide to contact your airport friend, I would have set you up with this guy. He’s totally your type.”

Quentin focused on looking for the book and tried to ignore Julia’s comment about his type. “Here,” he said once he had found the item.

“Don’t you want to find out who I think your type is?” 

He didn’t have time to answer, because Julia had taken his arm and was dragging him towards the front. Once they rounded the corner, Quentin caught a glimpse of the customer and barely had time to duck behind one of the shelves. This time, it was Quentin who dragged Julia with him. 

“Q, what the hell?”

“It’s him,” he whispered.

“What?”

Quentin inclined his head towards the counter. He saw the exact moment in which realization dawned on Julia. She looked back to get a better view. After a moment, she returned her gaze towards Quentin.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed triumphantly. Apparently, she hadn’t realized how critical the situation was for Quentin. “That’s definitely your type.” 

“What is he doing here?” Quentin asked, a bit frantic. 

“The book.” Julia pointed to it. This couldn’t be happening. Of all the bookstores in the city, Eliot had to walk right into this one. This must be destiny. And yet, Quentin stayed frozen in his hiding place, not knowing how to react. 

Luckily for him, Julia was there to push him into the right direction: “What are you waiting for? Go!” 

However, before Q could get out of his hiding spot, the bell rang. Julia and Quentin looked at the door as a woman stepped through the entrance. She was gorgeous, with dark skin and brown hair. She looked around until her gaze found Eliot. There was something regal in the way she walked towards him.

“Why is it taking you so long, El?” she asked. Once she reached him, she rested her hand on Eliot’s arm. He wasn’t unsettled by the action, which made Quentin think that the touch was natural between them.

“The bookseller is checking if they have the special edition.” Eliot answered. The woman was standing in front of Eliot, so Quentin could only see her back. She was short (well, if you asked Quentin everybody who stood beside Eliot looked short). “Don’t worry, Bambi,” he said while he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “We won’t miss our reservation.”

“You better not.” Her tone was playful. “Did you know how difficult was to get those tickets in this time of the year?”

Quentin didn’t register the moment in which Jules took the book from his hands. One moment she was with him, and in the next one she was standing next to Eliot and the woman. Quentin saw Jules give Eliot the book. He saw how Eliot took the woman’s hand and walked out of the shop. 

Well, it seemed destiny wasn’t team Quentin. The message was loud and clear. It wasn’t just the endearment or their actions, it was the combination of both; they spoke of a close relationship. And on top of that, there was Eliot’s general attitude. It was his fond expression when he looked at her; the way his eyes filled with warmth. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t...” It wasn’t a common occurrence for Jules to be at loss for words. 

“Better now than later.” Quentin was trying to make the situation a little less somber, but judging by Julia’s expression, he didn’t achieve it.

“Do you want to... talk about it?” She offered.

“No, there’s a lot of work to do.”

Quentin didn’t wait for a reply. He turned around and went directly to the basement. Julia didn’t follow him. She opted to give Q some time alone. Jules hadn’t expected this turn of events. She knew how bad the situation looked right now. But, perhaps it was better this way. This way Quentin wouldn’t get his hopes up just to have them crushed at the last moment. 

He took out his phone. He wanted to delete Eliot’s number, but that wouldn’t be fair. It was Q who misunderstood the signals, who saw flirting where there was only friendship. Maybe later, when he didn’t feel so foolish, maybe then he would call him. Or he could always wait like Julia had teased him for doing; wait until the spring break and see if destiny had prepared another meeting for them. 

Yeah, that sounded good. Quentin was going to do that.

  
  


“It’s time to stop moping,” Margo said as she took a seat beside Eliot. “It’s Christmas Eve! You can’t have a long face during Christmas Eve.” Her voice had a slightly mocking tone.

“I’m not moping,” he replied. 

“You sure?” she tilted her head. “Because, it definitely looks like you are.”

Eliot burrowed his head on her lap and muttered: “Not moping.” The words were muffled, but Margo heard them.

“Honestly, El, it’s all your fault.” She began to run her fingers through Eliot’s hair. “If you had just asked for his number, none of this would have happened.”

“I told you.” Eliot moved until he was looking at Margo. “I didn’t want to scare him off. If I had asked, he would have said no. It was better this way.”

It had been a good approach, Margo thought. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. And now she had to deal with the mess. From what Eliot had told her, it seemed Eliot’s chances were good. She wondered what could have happened to make the guy stay silent. Margo sighed. That didn’t matter anymore. Now it was time to cheer her best friend up. 

“Like I said, I’m done with your moping. We’ll be going out tomorrow.” 

“Bambi, while I appreciate your concern...”

“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this, Waugh. No need to worry about Ellisha. I found the perfect nanny.”

“Margo," he warned her. Okay, the last time she wanted to go out while Ellisha was with them, things didn’t go well (If Margo was really honest that night was almost a disaster). However, this time she had an ace up her sleeve.

In that moment, there was a knock on the door. Margo smiled; the timing was perfect. Eliot looked at her, slightly alarmed, but stood up and went to see what surprise Margo had prepared for him. 

“Fen!” Eliot exclaimed, once the door had been opened. He hugged her and after the shock wore off, he asked: “What are you doing here?”

“I wouldn’t miss Christmas with my little girl.” Fen answered, she walked to the couch and engulfed Margo in a hug too. Then she looked around. “Where is Ellisha?” 

“Finishing her letter to Santa.” Margo commented.

“I bet she needs help," Fen said and went to her daughter’s bedroom. 

Eliot sighed. “That’s why you insisted on making so much food.”

Margo’s grin only became wider. 

After dinner the whole family gathered in the living room. There were several packages wrapped in colorful envelopes under the Christmas tree. Margo smiled when she saw how happy Ellisha was showing off the presents her parents had gotten her. 

“Look, Mommy, look," Ellisha exclaimed while she opened the book once more and the little prince’s planet came into view. 

“It’s really pretty," Fen replied. The girl nodded and continued flipping the pages. 

“This is my favorite.” The book showed the little prince and the fox in a meadow. Ellisha pulled a piece of paper in the corner and the fox moved towards the boy. 

“I’m glad you liked it," Eliot said and ruffled the girl’s hair.

“I love it!” She said enthusiastically, and then she turned towards Fen. “I also love the bunnies!” She left the book and squeezed the twin white rabbits Fen had given her moments before. “I wonder what Santa will bring me tomorrow!”

The last statement made both parents smile. 

“If you don’t go to sleep soon, there will be no presents," Margo intervened in the conversation.

“Bambi, don’t be like that," Eliot reproached her. 

“No, Daddy, Auntie is right.” Ellisha backed her up. Margo gave Eliot a smug grin. “I should go to bed, let’s go.” 

‘You’re welcome’ Margo mouthed after Ellisha had stood up and was practically dragging him, making Fen giggle. Eventually, Eliot gave in and carried his daughter, along with all of her gifts. 

Once they had left the room, Fen sat closer to Margo and asked: “How is he?” Obviously, she had noticed something wasn’t quite right with Eliot. 

“He will be fine," Margo answered determinedly. “It’s nothing a night out can’t cure.”  
  


Quentin inhaled loudly and counted until three. He reminded himself of the reason why he was here, in a crowded bar on Christmas night. This was the last place where he wanted to be, and yet here he was. This was Jules’ fault. Honestly, Jules always got him into all sorts of trouble. Though, to be fair, Q also dragged her into his affairs. This time, his dearest friend had insisted on setting him up. 

After the terrible encounter in the bookstore, Julia had been trying to improve Q’s mood. At first, she wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. Talking about it had been promptly shot down. Quentin just brushed the subject off, saying that it had been just a misunderstanding. She didn’t buy it. Jules knew Quentin, and the revelation that Eliot had a girlfriend had totally shaken him. And so, as his best friend, she decided to help him forget about that asshole. 

(Yeah, Jules had never met Eliot properly, but, anyone who was in a relationship and flirted with strangers was an asshole. Even if Quentin claimed it was his fault for misreading the situation, from what Q had told her of their meeting, she was 90% sure the other man had been flirting. Quentin could be dense sometimes, but the signals were there. Jules was sure.) 

Jules decided to help by sending him on a blind date. And wasn’t that wonderful? Not really, especially not if you were Quentin. He looked at the time on his phone; his date should be here at any moment. Q twirled the drink in his hand and took a sip. At least Jules had chosen a bar. If things went wrong (which was very likely), he could make a quick retreat. 

It didn’t take long for Q’s date to arrive. Soon he found himself sharing the table with Molly. She had a kind face and she seemed equally nervous. Jules had mentioned that Molly was the cousin of one of her coworkers.

They ordered some drinks and made small talk. Things were going smoothly (too smoothly, taking into account Q’s bad luck). She was retelling her last hiking exploration when her cellphone rang. It was a short sound, probably a text. Molly’s hand immediately reached for the device. (To turn it off, Quentin thought naively. Oh, he had no idea). She unlocked the screen and completely ignored Q. 

Okay, that was rude. Quentin waited for a whole minute before saying something.

“Uhmm, Molly.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry," she said, looking a bit guilty. “You know how this is.”

Quentin nodded even though he didn’t quite know what _this_ was. Her attention had returned to the phone. Perhaps it was something important. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He was a father and if someone called because Teddy needed him, Quentin would be the same. Though, judging by Molly’s smile, this was not her case. The phone kept buzzing, and she kept answering it. 

_Maybe, you should turn it off,_ Quentin wanted to say, but he had the feeling that she wouldn’t follow his advice. It was evident that whatever her friends were telling her was much more important than what her date with Q had to offer. He tried to keep the conversation going, once Molly had stopped using her phone (though she was still holding it, and glanced in its direction from time to time).

Quentin didn’t want Jules to accuse him of not putting some effort. So, he kept trying to get her attention back. However, it didn’t matter if Molly and he were in the middle of an interesting topic (and there were plenty, Molly had travelled a lot and had all sorts of stories to tell). It only took one ring of her phone to sway her attention. 

He finished his drink. Thank God this was a bar.

After twenty minutes of multiple interruptions, the date ended. Quentin wasn’t sure who was more grateful. Molly went off first. They didn’t make any plans for a second one and Q was relieved for that small mercy. He asked for another drink and decided to enjoy the place a bit more; it was a nice bar.

Quentin looked around and observed the other customers. This was the type of bar where people went to have a nice chat (a date, his mind supplied). Jules had chosen a good location, he had to give her that. Quentin’s gaze lingered on a couple. It took him a few seconds to understand why the brown hair looked familiar. It was because he knew the woman. 

Well, knew was a big word. He had only seen her once (in the bookstore, with Eliot) and they hadn’t even spoken to each other. 

She was Eliot’s girlfriend. And the man that was leaning into her personal space was definitely not Eliot. 

The woman laughed and put her hand over his. _Serves him right_ , Jules would have said if she were there. (She does say it, later, when Quentin shares the story with her). But Quentin couldn’t think the same. Nobody deserves to be cheated on. 

The problem was, Quentin couldn’t do anything to uncover the truth. Sure, he had Eliot’s phone number. But, no way he was going to text him about this. It would raise too many questions (like how Q knew Eliot had a girlfriend, or why he decided to call only now). It would be better if he stayed out of this. 

Quentin directed his eyes to the bar counter. It was a Big Mistake: sitting there was Eliot. And he was looking in the woman’s direction. _Oh, shit, did he just discover her infidelity?_ Quentin expected to see anger blemish the handsome features, but instead of that, Eliot...wait. Did he just smile? _What the fuck?_

Before Quentin could stop looking (and getting the hell away), Eliot turned and spotted Q. Another smile blossomed on his lips, this time directed at him. Quentin should have lowered his gaze and pretend he didn’t recognize Eliot. However, he kept staring. Q was still processing what he saw; he probably looked like a fish out of water, for Q was sure he was gapping. Eliot didn’t seem to mind that small detail. 

“Hey," he said once he reached Q’s table. “What a surprise.”

“Uhm- uh. Hi, Eliot," Q stuttered. God, this was embarrassing. Quentin needed to regain his composure. Sure, this was far from an ideal third meeting, but Q had decided he wanted them to get past the misunderstanding and be friends. “How are you? How was Christmas? Well, technically it’s still Christmas, but, you get me,, right?” 

“Yes, I get the meaning.” Eliot grinned; apparently he found Q’s rambling amusing. “It was great. Margo managed to bring Fen for Christmas. It was the best gift for Ellisha. She even surpassed the book I got her.” 

“ _The Little Prince_ ," Q said without thinking. 

“Yeah," Eliot nodded. Luckily, he didn’t find it odd that Q knew the title.”Ellisha liked it, sure, but it can’t compare to her mother.”

“No, nothing can win against that.” There was a note of sadness in Q’s voice. “Anyway, sounds like a good Christmas.”

They talked until Quentin’s glass was empty. Just like in the coffee shop, the conversation flowed between them. He was enjoying this more than his previous date. Q had even forgotten about Eliot’s girlfriend and his not-flirting, when Eliot asked:

“So, what brought you here?”

“I was on a date," Quentin blurted out, surprising Eliot and making his own face grew warm. Only he would say something like that. 

“How was it?” Eliot asked in an attempt to salvage the situation. Quentin sighed. “That bad?”

“It could have been worse.”

“I thought you had better standards, that’s why I gave you my number.” So Eliot had been flirting then. Quentin wasn’t sure if he should feel proud about this. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I lost your number.” Quentin was lying and Eliot knew it, if the way in which his eyebrows shot up was any indication. 

“Well in that case I will give it to you again.” Eliot waited for a reply. Quentin didn’t want to talk about the elephant in the room, so he decided to keep silent. Quentin hoped that Eliot would take the hint, but it seemed Q didn’t have luck tonight, because Eliot continued: “Or you could give me yours.” 

And that was it. Jules was right. Eliot was an asshole; asking for Q’s number when his girlfriend was just a few feet away. The same girlfriend who was flirting with another man. Great.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of open relationship you and your girlfriend have,” Quentin said with all the courage he possessed. “But I’m not interested in finding out. Now, if you excuse me.”

That should have been the end of it. Except, Eliot practically yelled: “Girlfriend?” The look on his face was almost comic. 

“Yes, girlfriend," Quentin replied. “The gorgeous brunette that is sitting over there?” 

Eliot followed Quentin’s gesture, and that only made him more confused. His eyes widened and then he began to laugh. 

“You think Bambi is my girlfriend," he finally said, still laughing. Quentin didn’t like being laughed at. He was going to leave, but Eliot spoke up. “Quentin, I told you about her. She’s Margo, she’s my best friend.”

“What?”

“Tsk, tsk, Quentin.” Eliot admonished him. “Didn’t you listen when I told you girls weren’t my thing?” Oh, wait, Eliot had told Quentin that. How could he have forgotten about it?

“But you two looked so close,” Quentin said, trying to save some face. 

“Oh, we are,” Eliot admitted nonchalantly. “That doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

For a moment, no one said anything. Eliot was in deep thought; he was trying to understand how Quentin had came to that conclusion. For his part, Quentin just wanted to hide and pretend that this had never happened. It was Eliot who spoke first.

“There’s something that doesn’t add up,” he said, speaking slowly. Quentin wanted to skip this part, but sadly, no one was paying attention to his wishes. Eliot continued, unaware of Q’s inner struggle: “Where did you get that impression? I don’t think we were acting like that just now.”

Quentin looked at his hands. He didn’t want to explain this, but he had to. At least, he owed Eliot the truth. 

“Well, uh, I saw you before when you two went to buy the book.” Quentin saw that Eliot was still confused, so he reluctantly decided to elaborate. “Two days ago, you were looking for a special edition of _The Little Prince._ I was there.” 

“You saw us.” Eliot’s voice didn’t carry any accusation, and Q dared to look up. “Oh, so that’s how you knew the title of the book. I was sure I hadn’t told you at the airport.” So Quentin’s slip hadn’t gone unnoticed. Eliot scrutinized Q’s face before asking his next question. “Is it that why you never called me?” 

“I-, yeah.” Quentin dropped his gaze again. For a millisecond, he was tempted to insist that he had really lost the number. However, there was no point in pretending anymore. Eliot had been flirting (again) and, more importantly, he had been expecting Q’s call. And Quentin had ruined all his chances with him. There was no way Eliot was still interested in him, right? Not after hearing the weird not quite meeting at the bookstore. It had sounded like Q was stalking him. God, Quentin would have to be very lucky even for Eliot to still be his friend. 

“Well," Eliot’s voice brought Quentin back to the present. “Since you still have my number and it’s clear I’m single…” He paused. Quentin stared at him, barely hoping. Eliot grinned and finished, “you could actually use it this time. That way we can have a real date.”

Quentin was very proud to say that he managed to keep the conversation going even after Eliot’s words. A few minutes later, Q announced his departure. Once inside the taxi, Quentin took out his phone and typed a text long overdue.

* * *

Eliot really needed to thank Margo for dragging him to the bar. Who would have thought that he would find the solution to his moping there? Surely not Eliot. (And neither did Margo, as much as she wanted to make it look that it was all part of some plan. Bambi was awesome, but even she couldn’t have predicted that Quentin would be there. Especially not when she hadn’t even met him). 

That night Quentin had texted Eliot. And after exchanging a few texts, they had set a time and place for their next meeting. This time around, they would have an official date. Eliot shared the news with Fen, who said that it felt a bit rushed, but understood his excitement once she heard the whole story. She even offered to extend her stay with them.

For her part, Margo had been delighted to hear about the development of this particular issue. She had laughed when Eliot explained that Quentin had mistaken them for a couple. But she sobered up when she realized that this was the reason he didn’t call Eliot. Margo rolled her eyes and made a snarky remark about how, apparently, clueless idiots were Eliot’s type. 

Two hours before his date, Eliot found himself in Margo’s bedroom. He finished buttoning his vest, and then turned around to face three pairs of eyes.

“So, what do you think?” He opened his arms; showing off his outfit. He was wearing a light gray shirt with a black vest and dark trousers.

“Handsome! Dad, you look so handsome!” Ellisha was the first to show her approbation. Her voice was still full of emotion, even though they had been doing this for a while.

“That color suits you," Fen said, and gave him a thumbs up. 

“That vest looks wonderful," Margo answered without looking up from her phone. “Just like the others you tried on.”

Eliot had changed three times and Margo was reaching her limit. She knew that first dates weren’t easy, but Eliot had never fretted over his appearance like this before. Margo sighed, knowing this could only have one meaning. This date was important for him. 

“Oh, come on, Bambi, a little more enthusiasm isn’t going to hurt you.”

She gave in. “You are the prettiest man in the room,” She said with a chirpy tone. 

Margo’s words put a smile in Eliot’s face, which only faltered when Ellisha spoke.

“Auntie, isn’t dad the only boy in the room?”

“Exactly.”

The answer produced different reactions. Eliot let an indignant huff, while Ellisha and Fen laughed. He pretended to be offended, but Margo could see the hidden amusement in his dark eyes. Some of Eliot’s nervous aura had melted down.

Eliot arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early. He asked for a table, and the hostess gave him one close to the window. After a moment, a waiter brought the menu ( _My name is Tom and I’ll be your server tonight_ ). Eliot looked through the pages, but decided to wait until Quentin arrived to order something. It would be pretty rude not to. 

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was cozy, and the place (just like every other place in the city) had Christmas lights hanging all over. There was a white Christmas tree in one corner. Eliot had suggested this place because the food was delicious; the holiday spirit was a plus. He had the feeling that Quentin was the kind of person to get swept up by it. At least, it was a good place to have a nice conversation.

Originally, Eliot had wanted to sign up for a cooking class. However, he dismissed the idea. He didn’t know if Quentin liked that kind of activity and Eliot didn’t think it would be good to try before he found out. Besides, this was just their first date. He was sure there would be plenty of opportunities for them to go out in the future.

The date Eliot had planned ended up being too traditional for his liking: dinner and a walk in the park. But it was a good start. Even if it was only two simple activities, Eliot was confident they could enjoy themselves. Thinking back to that time in the airport, they didn’t need a long list of activities to have a nice chat. Eliot hoped that on this occasion he could get to know Quentin better. 

Eliot’s gaze lingered on the streets. It had started to snow, but it wasn’t heavy, so it shouldn’t be a problem when they decided to take a walk. 

Eliot could picture them walking side by side. Perhaps, Quentin would be cold and Eliot, like the gentleman he was, would give Quentin his coat. It would be too big for Quentin, but (with a bit of luck) he would accept the offer. And if Eliot was feeling brave, he maybe (just maybe)-

“Would you like to order?” 

Eliot’s daydreaming was interrupted by the waiter. 

“Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.”

The waiter nodded and retired. Eliot took out his phone and looked at the hour. It was 15 minutes past their planned meeting time, but Eliot fought off the impulse to send a text. It was only 15 minutes; the probability that Quentin had gotten delayed by traffic was high. (Or that’s what Eliot told himself. He didn’t even knew if Quentin had a car).

Ten minutes more passed and this time Eliot did open their last chat. And yet, he couldn’t write anything. Quentin’s last message stood mockingly: _I will see you there_. But what if something had happened? Without a second thought, Eliot dialed Quentin’s number. It rang, once, twice, until the voicemail greeted him. He hung up. Perhaps Quentin was close and he didn’t see the need to answer when he could explain himself in person. Eliot looked towards the doors, but nobody entered.

The waiter came back; he seemed a bit awkward and scurried away quickly when Eliot shook his head. Eliot scrolled through their chat and confirmed that he was in the correct place at the agreed time. There was only one explanation, but Eliot refused to accept it. Surely, Quentin wouldn’t do this, would he? Eliot sighed. It didn’t matter what he had thought about Quentin. The reality was getting hard to deny. 

Eliot covered his face with his hands. _God, this was such a mess_. He was startled when a glass was placed on his table. Before he could say that he hadn’t ordered anything, the waiter commented:

“It’s on the house. Sorry.” And then, he made his retreat quickly. 

Just when it seemed the night couldn’t get any worse. Even the waiter realized Eliot had been stood up. Damn it! Eliot took the glass and drank it. Free alcohol was free alcohol (it wasn’t good alcohol, but he wasn’t in any position to be picky. Did he already mention someone stood him up? Oh, yeah, that was the reason he had a drink).

This didn’t have to end in a disaster, he thought. The waiter was cute and if Eliot played his cards right, he could get his number instead. But, Eliot hadn’t come here to charm the waiter. He had come to meet Quentin. Since that wasn’t happening, he should leave now. He wasn’t in the mood to prolong this. And, judging by the waiter’s words, Eliot had invoked pity more than anything else. 

Did he really look so miserable? Probably. He had been sitting there, alone, looking constantly at his phone. And not only that, he had made a few calls, which nobody had answered. Yeah, he definitely made a pathetic picture. How long had he been waiting? Eliot looked at his phone. It had been almost 40 minutes since he had arrived. How come they hadn’t kicked him out? He shouldn’t tempt his luck anymore.

Eliot finished his drink and stood up. He put on his coat and walked out of the restaurant into the cold air of the night. 

  
  


Quentin was unpacking the new books that had arrived when his phone rang: it was Rupert. He took the call without a hurry. It was common for Teddy’s grandparents to call Quentin from time to time while Teddy stayed with them. He didn’t have any reason to think this call was any different than the others. 

It only took one sentence, ‘Teddy had an accident,’ to make Quentin pale. Rupert explained: Teddy had slipped on the ice and hurt his right ankle when he landed. It wasn’t a severe injury, (‘only a minor sprain’, the doctor had said, ‘with proper rest it will heal soon’). The problem was that the accident had skaken the kid, and Teddy had been calling for his dad.

One hour later, Quentin was at the airport. And after another hour, he was finally boarding a plane. The only thing on which he could focus was on the wellbeing of his child. He wanted to call Jules to let her know he was travelling, but as soon as he thought of it, the flight attendant asked them to turn off their phones. He remembered that his phone had rung while when he was passing one of the security checkpoints. It was probably her. 

Rupert was waiting for Quentin at the terminal. The older man tried to reassure Quentin, but he understood that Q’s worries would only dissipate once he saw his son. They drove to the house. 

“Dad!," Teddy yelled as soon as Quentin entered the room. He tried to sit up and winced at the pain that the sudden movement had caused.

“Be careful," his grandmother said while she helped Teddy to move. 

With three steps, Quentin reached Teddy’s bed and pulled him into a hug, trying to give him some comfort. (Though, if Quentin was sincere, it felt like he was the one who needed the hug more. He only wanted to be sure that his son was safe). 

Quentin took Aldith’s place: he sat on the bed and held the ice pack. Aldith and Rupert retired to the living room and left father and son to catch up. Quentin asked Teddy about the cookies he made last night. He already had heard all about it, but he believed it was a good way to distract Teddy from the pain. 

It worked like a charm. Teddy began to retell how he and Rupert helped Aldith to decorated the cookies. Quentin listen attentively to his son, occasionally changing the ice pack. It didn’t take much for Teddy to feel the weariness; he began to yawn and then he was dozing off until he finally fell asleep. Quentin was about to follow his son’s example, but a knock on the door startled him.

Aldith had come to check on them. Once she saw that Teddy was resting, she urged Quentin to go downstairs and eat something.

“I prefer to stay here," Quentin said, but Aldith wasn’t having any of his excuses.

“Teddy needs you to be strong. Besides, I can only manage to take care of one sick child at the time.”

Quentin couldn’t argue with her; well, he could, but, honestly, he was hungry. He followed her to the kitchen. Once there, Aldith gave him a bowl of _fideos_. The food was a bit spicy, but Quentin found he liked the taste. 

“It’s good.” He said between bites. “Really tasty.” 

“You can have more if you want.” Quentin nodded. Aldith brought the casserole over. “Enjoy it, because tomorrow I’m not cooking. I think we can order something from the italian restaurant that opened a few blocks from here.”

The last sentence snapped something inside Quentin’s brain.

 _Italian restaurant_. 

Eliot.

He was supposed to meet Eliot at the italian restaurant. Quentin had a date. 

“Is everything all right?” Aldith asked, the concern evident in her tone.

Instead of answering, Quentin let his head fall into the table. 

Nothing was right. He had had a date with Eliot and he hadn’t shown up. Oh, God, Eliot must have thought that Quentin stood him up. (Well, he had, but not on purpose. He would never do that on purpose!). 

When Quentin look up, Aldith was still trying to understand what was happening. He couldn’t exactly tell her, but he needed to give some sort of explanation.

“Jules," he blurted out. “I didn’t tell her I would be travelling. I need to talk with her.”

At the mention of his friend, Aldith’s expression changed. She knew what Julia thought of her and his husband. The easy atmosphere changed drastically. It wasn’t the best answer Quentin could come up, but it was partially true. He was in great need of Julia’s assistance.

“I see," Aldith replied. “I’ll see if Teddy is still sleeping while you make your call.” She stood up and left the kitchen.

Once he was alone, Quentin darted forward the living room looking for his cellphone. He unlocked the screen. He had three missed calls: two from Jules and one from Eliot. 

“Shit," Quentin cursed under his breath. 

This couldn’t be happening to him. He pressed Jule’s number and waited for his friend to pick up.

“Q!," she greeted him. “Finally you return my call.Your date went that good, huh?” She teased him. “I guess there was no need for me to worry. Now, be a good friend and tell me everything.”

“There was no date.”

“Did he dare-” She paused mid sentence. “What do you mean, ‘there was no date’? Explain from the beginning.”

And so Quentin did. He told Jules about Rupert’s call, Teddy’s accident, his sudden flight and how he only had remembered the date a few minutes ago when Aldith mentioned the italian restaurant. 

“You stood him up,” she concluded, making Quentin wince. He had; his actions fit the bill for the definition, but he hated to put it on those terms. “Why are you talking to me?”

The question caught Quentin by surprise. Wasn’t it evident? He needed advice, good advice. Jules was his best friend. He didn’t know how to put all that into words, so he just muttered.

“Help me, please.”

On the other side of the phone Jules sighed. Quentin could picture her rolling his eyes at him. 

“Okay, listen to me, Q.” She continued. “I’m only going to say this one time. You stood him up, unconsciously, I know, but you did. And instead of calling him to explain why you didn’t show up, you’re talking with me. Can you tell me how this is a good decision?”

Jules had a point. (Of course, she had). 

“Because I need moral support," he ventured to say.

“Quentin.” Her voice carried a bit of recrimination. Julia knew why he had call her; not for nothing she was Q’s best friend. And because of that, she wanted him to say the words. Accepting the problem was always the first step towards a resolution. This was how Julia chose to help him.

“I’m afraid," he confessed finally. “I’m afraid I messed up our relationship. And I know I should just call and explain, but I just can’t stop thinking what if he doesn’t believe me, Jules? What if he thinks I’m giving him some half-assed excuse?”

For a moment the line stayed silent, giving Quentin time to mull over what he had said. Was he overreacting? Perhaps? And yet, this felt really important to him. 

“If he doesn’t believe you, then he’s not as good as you thought,” Julia decided. 

“That’s not fair," Quentin protested weakly.

“You said the two of you practically bonded over your kids, right?” After Q hummed in response, she carried on. “It would be hypocritical of him to be mad at you because you had to take care of Teddy.” 

It was true. Given the circumstances there was no way Quentin could have gone to the date, but (at least!) he could have called Eliot. And not left him waiting without a reason. 

“I know… It’s just, fear isn’t rational.” 

“Yeah," Julia conceded. “But you, Q, are one of the bravest person I know. I’m sure you’re gonna kick your fear in the ass and make that call.”

“One of?” Quentin half-joked. 

“Well, Teddy is after your crown.” The commentary made both of them laugh. 

“You’re right. I’m gonna do that.” Quentin felt a lot more reassured about his next step, and it was Jules’ doing. Softly, he added: “Thank you.” 

“Anytime.”

  
  


Margo was surprised when Eliot returned to the apartment so early. He had only been gone for an hour and a half. Once he unlocked the door, he went directly to the kitchen and started to make a cocktail. Margo was grateful it was only her in the apartment at the moment. (Fen had taken Ellisha to that musical they had wanted to see). She left her laptop on the couch and walked toward the kitchen.

“Bad date.” It sounded more like an affirmation than a question. It was the obvious conclusion to Eliot’s early return and his bad mood.

“More like no date.” 

“What?”

“He didn’t show up.” Eliot said and Margo could hear the unspoken sentence. _He stood me up._

The incredulity was written over Margo’s face. Eliot handed her a drink and sat by his side. This couldn’t be right; it didn’t make any sense. Eliot was, well, he was Eliot! Who in their right mind would leave him waiting? 

“What the fuck?” She finally said. 

“Oh, I was surprised too, Bambi.” He was trying to lessen the importance of the matter, but Margo could see through his facade. “Sadly, it does happen to the best of us.”

“Did he give you an explanation?” She needed to know more, but Margo didn’t want to push Eliot beyond. So, she settled for the routine questions. (Not that this were a common situation between them.)

“No," he replied. “Quentin didn’t answer my call and I did not insist.” He raised his hand to stop what was probably going to be an objection, and added: “Why bother when it was obvious he didn’t plan to show up?”

Suddenly, Margo felt the urge to punch someone in the face, preferably that Quentin. She didn’t have to question Eliot further to picture the situation in which her friend had found himself. However, rage didn’t help them. 

“I’m sorry.” She rested her head on Eliot’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be.” He began to stroke her hair. “You’re here.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes; taking comfort in each other’s company. Once they finished their drinks Margo spoke.

“What do you say, Buffy marathon? I think we can watch two episodes before Fen and Ellisha return and it becomes a cartoon one.”

Eliot laughed at that. He kissed Margo’s temple.

“That sounds lovely.”

They managed to see half of one episode, before the girls returned. Their marathon didn’t become into a cartoon one, because the girl was more interested in sharing her opinion of the play she had seen. Eliot was listening to Ellisha retell the musical when his phone rang. Margo was the closest to the device, so she took it. On the screen, the name “Quentin” was displayed. 

For a moment, different scenarios flashed through Margo’s mind. She could let it ring, she could hang up, or even better, she could take the call and let Quentin know what she thought about him. She didn’t do any of the above, because the decision wasn’t hers to make. Margo would hate if this call upset Eliot further, but there was also the chance of the opposite outcome. 

She caught Eliot’s attention and passed him the phone, then leaned over to Ellisha:

“It’s time to go to bed.” Margo took the girl’s hand and led her to Fen’s bedroom. 

Margo had never considered herself an optimistic person. However, this time she hoped her second guess was right. 

After talking with Jules, Quentin went to see Teddy. His son was still sleeping, so Quentin was out of excuses to procrastinate talking to Eliot. Finally, he dialed the number and waited for Eliot to pick up. 

What if he didn’t answer? Well, Quentin deserved that, he supposed. More important, what if he pick up? How was Quentin expected to apologize?

“Hello," Eliot answered. Only with one word he managed to sound cold. 

“Hi, uhm, I-” Quentin should have thought about some sort of speech before making the call. Except if he did that, it would be only to gain more time. It was no surprise that he ended up saying the wrong thing. “I’m sorry for not telling you I wasn’t coming.”

“So, that means you’re not sorry for not showing up.” Eliot’s voice became even more icy.

“No, that’s not-” This wasn’t going as planned (not that he planned anything, though). Quentin took a deep breath and continued. “Teddy had an accident and I had to travel to see him. That’s why I didn’t go. I should have told you, but I could only think about Teddy’s state.”

“I see.” Eliot replied after a brief pause. “I understand. How is he?”

“Better, it was just a minor sprain.”

They talked for a bit more, before Quentin had to check once more on Teddy. Once he had hung up, Quentin sighed in relief. He hadn’t ruined this. Julia had been right: Eliot did understand Quentin’s situation. And how could he not, when the other man was also a father.

Teddy’s recovery went smoothly: the swelling went down and the pain disappeared. Two days later, the doctor gave them the green light to travel. Even if Teddy was almost cured, his father insisted on him using crutches. 

A surprise awaited them at the airport. It turned out that Eliot’s ex-wife had chosen that same day to travel. And so the five of them met there. 

Ellisha was the one who spotted him. She waved her hand and Quentin returned the gesture. The girl’s action caught Eliot attention, and soon he saluted him too. Before the other man could approach, an announcement rang out. Eliot looked conflicted, but gestured that he needed to go. Quentin nodded, and watched the three of them walk towards the boarding area.

They continued talking through text, exchanging messages about their daily lives. They didn’t mention their failed date. Quentin had expected Eliot to say something, but he never did. And by the time Q thought of doing it, it seemed like too much time had passed. 

Perhaps it was better this way. As much as destiny seemed to throw them together, it also drove them apart. Quentin told himself that he should be grateful they could remain friends. 

* * *

“What the hell are you doing?”

Eliot looked up from his laptop. He had been in the middle of writing an email when Margo barged into his studio. 

“Hi, Bambi," Eliot said calmly, as if Margo’s interruption was totally normal. “I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.” 

He continued typing. He wasn’t taken aback by Margo’s words; his friend never had any qualms about pointing out Eliot’s mistakes. Especially when Eliot was blind to them, which happened more regularly than Eliot liked to admit. 

“Don’t give me that crap, Waugh,” she replied; hands on her hips and a fierce gaze boring into him. 

Eliot sighed.

“Are we going to do this?” There was a note of resignation in his words. He, better than anyone, knew Margo was not going to leave until she spoke her mind. And, as expected, Eliot’s question didn’t make her waver. He gave in. “Fine, whatever. Ask.”

“Why are you doing this, El?” Her voice was a lot gentler than before. “You were so excited about him and now, you just sit and do nothing. I don’t understand you.”

“It’s for the best.”

“You can’t seriously think that.”

“Every time we try to give it a shot something terrible happens.” He made a pause, trying to let the information sink in.

“So what?” She shot back. “You had a few mishaps, everyone has those. I know you have been absent from the dating scene, but that’s how things are.” 

“No," he shook his head. “This is different.” 

“How so?”

“First the whole misunderstanding in the bookstore and now Teddy’s accident. I think destiny is being pretty clear about us.”

Margo snickered at the last sentence. “Really, El? Destiny? Perhaps you’re right, and your destiny is to be the King of a magic land and that’s why you can’t find happiness on Earth.”

“Bambi, I’m being serious.” 

It sounded a bit silly, but he did feel it carried a bit of truth. 

“So I am. You were the first to bring ‘destiny’ into the conversation.”

“Fine, it’s not destiny.” His admission earned a smug look from Margo. “It’s just… Yes, we keep running into each other, but at the same time, there’s _this thing_ that doesn’t let us get too close, you know. So I thought, perhaps I was taking the wrong angle with this relationship. Being friends should be enough.” 

Eliot kept his expression neutral, but something in his tone must have given him away. The irritation left Margo all at once. Eliot had showed his hand, and she had caught the hidden meaning in those words immediately. 

“So you rather miss the chance than take the risk?” As always, Margo cut straight to the heart. 

“You know me so well, Bambi.” He offered a rueful smile. 

Margo could only shake her head. She walked around the desk between them and rested her hands on Eliot’s shoulders. The little touch disarmed him, and seconds later he was leaning into her arms. 

“Then you should trust my judgement.” 

“Maybe I should.” Eliot admitted softly. This was too much for him, he didn’t like to feel this vulnerable. He needed to change the mood somehow. He decided to change the focus of the conversation: “Anyway, you’re supposed to be on my side, not his.”

“It’s because I’m on your side that I’m doing all of this.” She answered smoothly.

“It didn’t seem like that when you were calling me names back there.”

“Well, you deserved each one of them.” They were falling into their easy banter. But Margo wasn’t going to let Eliot get away with a change of topic. She tapped Eliot’s shoulder until he looked up to her, then she said: “I’m on your side. I want you to be happy, and that day at the bar, you were having a good time.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” He shared what had been bothering him the whole time. In the end, it was the fear of failure that didn’t let him take this opportunity. 

“Well, then you _know_ it doesn’t work, instead of keep wondering.” 

Eliot smiled. She wasn’t trying to give him shallow words of encouragement; that had never been her style. No, what Margo wanted was for him to understand how important was to do something and not just dwell on the what if’s.

“Bambi, your wisdom knows no limits. Now, I need to find a way to put the ball in play again.” 

“You are a very lucky man, because it happens that I have something you could use.”

“So, what do you think?” Quentin asked. “Should I go?”

Julia tried to wrap her head around the information that Q had just told her. Her friend could be such an idiot sometimes. She wanted to hit him for asking dumb questions. Instead, Julia grasped her hands together, prayed for patience, and said:

“Why shouldn’t you? Only yesterday you were complaining about this situation.” 

“Well, yes, but-”

“But, nothing, Quentin," she interrupted, before he could make some half-assed excuse. “I will take care of Teddy and you can finally have your date.”

“If nothing else happens,” he muttered under his breath.

“Don’t be like that," she reprimanded him. And then, wanting to cheer him up, she added: “They say third time’s the charm.” 

She really hoped that on this occasion there were no more mishaps. If anyone deserved a second chance at happiness, it was Quentin. The man had hardly dated after Arielle’s passing away. Julia knew there was no guarantee this would be _the_ relationship, but he didn’t lose anything by trying. Besides, it was damn time something good happened for a change. 

Quentin adjusted his coat and looked sideways trying to see if he could spot Eliot. They had decided to meet a few blocks from the ice rink. This was supposed to help them to avoid the crowd, but Quentin didn’t feel like they had succeeded because the fountain across from the Music Hall was also full of people. Mostly tourists; Quentin could tell by the way they talked excitedly and snapped pictures almost every minute. 

He idly wondered what the odds were of being stood up. Quentin didn’t think Eliot would do something like that on purpose. But, then with their luck, he could expect anything. At least if Eliot didn’t show up, Q could blend in the multitude. The situation was so different from the one he put Eliot through. God, he still felt guilty about that. Perhaps he should apologize again. Quentin tried to put those thoughts aside. Eliot had understood, and more important, he still wanted a date; that was the reason why Q was here tonight. 

Unless this was payback…

Quentin shook his head, he shouldn’t be thinking so negatively. Julia was right, he needed to trust a bit more on this date. It was true that there was a long list of things that could go wrong. However, Quentin felt it was time to have a good evening. Surely, the previous incidents had to fill their quota of yearly bad luck. Quentin took his phone out of his coat to check the time, just as the screen lit up and showed Eliot’s name. 

Minutes later, they were on their way toward the ice rink. The walk was a bit awkward, since neither of them spoke. For his part, Quentin was still processing the fact that this time they were actually going to have a date: no misunderstandings, nor last minute troubles. Eliot seemed to be under the same predicament, because he also didn’t make any attempt to start a conversation. 

They arrived in time for their skating session. To be honest, Quentin wasn’t very keen on the whole skating thing; it had been years since the last time he had done it. He was a bit nervous of falling and making a fool of himself. _“It’s like riding a bicycle,"_ Julia had said to reassure him, _“you never really forget it.”_ Despite the encouraging words, Quentin was still unsure of how things would work out. 

As soon as he stepped into the ice, he knew he had made a mistake. Thankfully, the railing wasn’t so far away and Q managed to grab onto it. In two swift movements Eliot was at his side.

“Are you okay?” He asked, clearly worried. 

“Yeah.” Q nodded and adjusted his grip. “Just… I don’t usually skate.”

“Like…never?” This time there was a bit of amusement in Eliot’s voice. He was eyeing the closed hand on the railing.

“More like, once … when I was a kid.” He admitted a bit sheepishly.

Eliot shook his head in disbelievement. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“With our luck?” Quentin replied. When Eliot had mentioned he had tickets for the Rockefeller Ice Rink, Q had wondered if this was a sign for another failed date. However, he had let himself be talked into it by Jules. 

“So,” Eliot said slowly, “you decided it was okay for you to skate. With our luck.” The emphasis in the last part showed how absurd he found the situation they were in.

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds pretty dumb,” he conceded, and Eliot laughed. 

“I’ll tell what we’re going to do. We’re going to spend the next 90 minutes learning how to skate.”

“90 minutes?” Q make a pained noise. 

“We can take all the breaks you need.” Eliot extended his hand and said, “sounds fun, right?” Quentin intertwined their fingers and, without leaving the security of the railing, began to advance. 

They spent the next hour and a half in the ice rink skating - or in Quentin’s case, trying to skate. The experience was surprisingly fun. But it also was quite terrifying. On more than one occasion, Quentin felt certain he was going to fall. He had predicted this, so he didn’t stray too far away from the reliable railing. After the first two laps, however, Quentin had managed to stand on his own. He advanced at a slow pace. There were a lot of boys (around Teddy’s age) than went faster than him, but Q was keeping a positive attitude. Just as Eliot had promised, they did take several breaks. 

“You never told me. How did you get the tickets for this?” Quentin inquired during one of them.

“Well, someone owed Margo a favor.” Eliot answered like it was the most obvious thing. 

“And just like that?” Q insisted. Jules had mentioned that tickets for the ice rink usually sold out quickly.

“Yes, I’m just going to say this person knew better than to upset her.” 

Quentin thought back to the woman he had seen in the bookstore. She had projected a strong presence; Q could sympathize why someone wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. And so, he commented: “I think I can see the reason.” 

“Oh, she will be pleased to hear that.” 

They continued chatting a bit more before returning to the ice. Quentin also took his time to observe the place and its decorations. The rink was flanked by its usual flags. The other fixture that remained unchanged was the fountain. However, its illumination favored the red and white. And the ginormous Christmas tree behind the fountain was a clear indication of the season. Apart from that, the other trees had also been wrapped up in lights. Quentin found he quite liked the way the Christmas’ lights made the trees glow. Everything looked great, though he wasn’t very fond of the sculptures of tin soldiers and santas. This was apparently an unpopular opinion, because a lot of families were taking pictures in front of them. 

Soon their time on the rink was up, and they were on their way to the Rockefeller Center Cafe. It turned out, their passes also included dinner there. Once more, Quentin wondered how Margo had secured this kind of evening. 

When they arrived at the restaurant, the host lead them to their table. It was warmer inside the building, so they took off their coats. There were green garlands with white lights hanging from the roof and framing the windows. (Quentin spared a fleeting moment to wonder if there was also mistletoe, but there wasn’t). Their table was close to the windows. They could see the people who were still on the ice. Quentin felt more relaxed now that he was on this side of the glass; he had confirmed that skating wasn’t his forte. But, at least, he had survived the whole time without falling on his ass - that had to count, right?

As if he could read Q’s thoughts, Eliot said: “It wasn’t that bad.” They had settled and ordered some drinks: a cocktail with a fancy name for him and a beer for Q.

“Well, I’m not eager to repeat the experience.” Quentin answered honestly. Only after the words had left his mouth he realized Eliot could take it the wrong way. The comment seemed to imply Q wasn’t liking their date.

“Why not?” Eliot questioned, but judging by his smile he had understood Q’s reasons. “I’m sure, Teddy would have so much fun. Ellisha certainly did.”

“That I can’t deny, but I’m sure he will have more fun if someone could actually teach him how to skate and not just to hold the rail and not fall.” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You did just fine. In a couple of sessions you will be a total pro.” The praise cheered Quentin up, even if it was a big exaggerated. 

“Just like them, right?” Quentin gestured to a couple of girls who were making some complicated jumps that Q had only seen on television. 

“Totally.” Eliot deadpanned. “You would be doing the loop in your next visit.” Both of them laughed at that. Of course, Eliot knew the name of the jump. After a moment, Eliot asked again. “So, will you bring him?” This time the question was more earnest.

“Perhaps next year.” Quentin replied after considering it a bit. Eliot was right; Teddy would find it entertaining. However, it was too soon. “He still has to recover from his sprained ankle.”

Eliot nodded; surprisingly, he didn’t question the decision. Quentin was prepared to hear how he was exaggerating. Jules had said so, but, Q guessed if someone understood overprotectiveness it would be another parent. Not that he thought that was his case. Quentin knew where to draw the line.

Their date continued without any interruption through three courses: an appetizer, the main dish and a desert. Overall, the food was delicious. Quentin particularly liked the dessert. He asked for a cheesecake with blueberry topping; the balance between the sweetness and the acidity was great. 

“I guess this is it.” Q declared as they were leaving the restaurant.

“Not exactly," Eliot intervened. “We still have one more stop.”

“ Do we?” He asked, curiosity already nagging at him. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’ll give you a clue," the other said conspiratorially . This sort of game caught Q’s attention and he waited for the hint. Finally, Eliot continued: “It has to do with heights.” 

“Height? What kind of clue is that,” he complained, but when he realized Eliot wasn’t going to give nothing else, he gave it some more thought. After a moment of concentration, Q ventured: “the Christmas tree?”

“Close, but no. I was thinking more along the lines of us standing in a very high place.”He waited until the meaning of his words sunk in. Quentin widened his eyes. 

“The Top of the Rock!” he exclaimed. That place had great views. Suddenly a thought occurred to Q. “Should I be thanking Margo for this, too?”

Eliot made an affronted noise. “Are you implying I don’t know how to plan a date? I want you to know I have good ideas on my own.”

“Then?” Q insisted, entertained by Eliot’s indignation. 

“Fine. She _might_ have suggested it.”

The walk to the building was short. The entrance, marked by a red carpet, was literally just around the corner. While they were buying their tickets, Quentin had time to observe the glass chandelier that hung in the middle of the reception. The thousands of small crystals reflected the light nicely. They took a lift and passed a security point before reaching a sort of museum hall. 

They didn’t stay there for a long time. Eliot approached the wall that had the history of the Christmas tree. The tradition, as the plaque informed them, had begun in 1933. And since then, every year they brought in a Norway spruce of about 70 feet tall. For his part, Quentin was interested in the section that showed the planning of the building. After their brief stay in that room, they found the lift that took them to the 67th floor. And just like that, they were in the first observation deck. 

The cool air of the night welcomed them as soon as they stepped outside. Quentin had visited this place before, but never during the night; this was a different sight. The night lights gave the city another face. They explored the different views that the observation deck offered and tried to spot as many familiar buildings as they could. Finally, they settled on a spot that gave them a clear line of sight to Central Park, though it was a bit dark to really make out the shape of it. For a moment, both stayed silent.

“Tell me," Eliot spoke first. He nudged Q’s slightly arm to get his attention. “Was our date worth the wait?”

The question was asked with an air of nonchalance, but Q caught an underlying nervousness. Quentin shared the sentiment, and he said:

“It was. Surpassed all my expectations, actually.” 

The answer released some of Eliot’s tension. He smiled proudly and then he continued, “perhaps, there’s still a way in which we could improve it.” His smile had taken a more playful glint. 

“You think so?” Quentin seemed to have a vague idea what Eliot was hinting at. By this point of their conversation, they had turned from the view and were now facing each other.

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“In that case, I’m open to suggestions.”

“I was thinking that this is a pretty romantic place for kissing.” 

While they were talking, they had closed the distance between their bodies, until Quentin was resting his hand on Eliot’s upper arm. 

“Yes," Quentin answered. Suddenly, he had an idea. “But I don’t kiss on the first date.”

The surprise didn’t last long on Eliot’s face before it was replaced with mischief. “Isn’t it great this is our third date, then?” He declared. 

This time it was Quentin’s turn to be surprised. 

“I’m not sure the other two occasions really counted as a date,” he argued back.

“Why not?”

“Well,the first was more a happy coincidence, and I wasn’t even present on the second.”

“It seems you’re getting a bit confused there.” 

“How so?”

“On our first date, I tried to teach you how to skate.” Eliot began, and immediately Quentin knew where this was going. “The second we had a delicious dinner and right now we’re on our third date.”

Quentin smiled shyly and said: “I can’t go against that logic.” 

He tilted his head up and their lips met. 

He wanted this, and after so many interruptions, he could finally have it. This was a beginning; of what exactly, Q couldn’t be sure. Would there be obstacles in their future? Absolutely. But they would face those together.

This was their first step on the path of love.


End file.
